


Wards, Bastards and Other Creatures

by Joan_of_Arc



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9349691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan_of_Arc/pseuds/Joan_of_Arc
Summary: Catelyn is at Winterfell when the Ironborn attack. Will the people from Winterfell be able to come up with a plan to save themselves? Or will they need help from reinforcements sent by Robb, who is still fighting a war in the South? Maybe a certain bastard from Bolton can come to the aid of Winterfell …





	1. Theon Turncloak (Catelyn)

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a re-write of another story of mine, "The Ward that turned". If you have not read that story, DON'T!
> 
> It's horrible! The plot is lame and the story line is very simple. I have written it again, adding more details to the plot, making it more intricate and adding more depth to the characters.
> 
> It was one of my first stories, when I was just starting to write and still didn't know much about the world of Asoiaf and how it worked. In the original story, when Theon attacks Winterfell, Catelyn is there and with the help of Maester Luwin they come up with a (very simple and cliche) plan to beat Theon. And some very blatant deus ex machina moment when the Blackfish shows up and saves the day …
> 
> I truly hope this one turns out much better :)

At least there had been no physical damage to the castle and casualties had been almost minimal. As they stood in the courtyard, Catelyn had no choice but to hand Winterfell over to Theon.

 

“How dare you?” she cried. “You lived with us, we gave you food, shelter, a home. My son trusted you, and is this how you repay him? By betraying him?”

“Food and shelter, the Lady says” shouted Theon to the people gathered in the courtyard. “I was a prisoner. Your husband took me from my home and my family and brought me here. You never gave me a home. You ignored me Lady Stark, just like you did that bastard Jon Snow. But I wasn’t a bastard, I was highborn. Now, the castle is mine!”

“Theon, please, don’t”, Catelyn begged.

“ _Theon, please, don’t_ ” he mocked and then he turned to his men “Take the Lady Catelyn to her chambers and lock her there. Lock the two boys in their rooms, as well. Everybody else go back your chores. You’ll be working for me now”

 

Lady Catelyn Stark lay awake in bed trying to process everything that had happened in the past few months. She had returned from the Eyrie after that fiasco with her sister and Tyrion Lannister. How her sister had changed still baffled her. Gone was the giddy little girl she used to turn to as a child, her confidant both in times of joy and sadness. Now, a bitter and sour arrogant old woman stood in her place. Lysa was younger than Catelyn by a few years, but life and disappointment had aged her beyond her years. A widow and a distressed mother, she was not able to think properly. _But I’m a widow, too, and a distressed mother as well. Will I turn just like her? At least I don’t breastfeed my children past their infancy_ , she chuckled to herself. That image of her sickly nephew’s pouty lips latching on to her sister’s sagging breast had upset her in more ways than she could count. _How could it have gone so bad at the Eyre?_ , she wondered. Following up on her sister’s suspicions that the Lannisters had been behind Jon Arryn’s death and her discoveries at Winterfell that pointed at the Lannisters also being behind her son’s fall and subsequent attack – where she herself had almost been killed, too – she had set off to King’s Landing to warn her husband of the dangers he was stepping into. There she had met with Petyr Baelish, a life-long friend who had told her, beyond the shadow of a doubt that the blade belonged to Tyrion Lannister. It was actually by chance that she had met with the Imp at the Inn. Truth be told, she had actually tried to hide, but it was Lord Lannister himself that called her out. How could she explain her absence at Winterfell and her presence at the Inn? She felt she had no choice but to arrest him. _Would I had been less honorable and avenged my family right then and there!_ But she was not the killing kind. A trial was what the Imp deserved: she had evidence and the statement of a reliable witness, her beloved Petyr. Plus, she knew she could count on her sister backing her, since she also suspected the Lannisters were behind her husband’s death. Yet, the situation at the Eyrie could not have gone more differently than what she had expected. First of all, her sister had … changed – she tried to look for a better word but could not find one. The Imp had warned her about Lysa, too, but she did not want to believe him. Then, that brat of a nephew kept on rambling about “making the bad man fly”. No fair trial can be guaranteed in those circumstances. And to top it all off, the Imp had won the trial by combat fair and square. If the Gods had decreed him to be innocent, who was she to judge him guilty?

 

Dejectedly she had to let Tyrion Lannister go and decided to join her son Robb. Apparently things had escalated while she was in her little adventure in the East. King Robert had died and his son Joffrey had been crowned King. Ned had been arrested for treason in King’s Landing and Joffrey had summoned Robb to swear fealty. Robb did go south, but not to swear fealty. He had called the banners and was marching to King’s Landing to free his father. She felt both apprehension and pride when she saw him again. Her first born had become a man: weather-torn clothes, a stubble that adorned his once chubby baby face, and newly acquired scars she had never seen before. Even the way he walked and talked indicated how much he had grown in these few moons. Yet, as good as it felt to see him again, she knew she could not stay. So she met with Robb briefly in his camp and then she had returned home to Winterfell. She had been so happy to be back. She had not seen her two youngest sons in months. Rickon had grown so much, and Bran was awake. He was a cripple, yes, but he was alive and awake. She was back at what she knew best: she was a mother and the Lady of the House. Robb would be back soon with Ned and the girls. She knew that. She was certain. She had to believe that.

 

But then word had come from the south, Ned had been executed. Words could not even begin to describe the hole she felt within her chest. Her love, her foundation, her rock was gone and was never coming back. Her family had always been her pride and joy, her most treasured possession and her most cherished achievement in life. Yet, it was slowly falling apart. Her husband was gone and her oldest son was in the middle of a war. A war she may have started herself when she arrested the Imp, she thought with a pang of guilt. Robb had been crowned King in the North by his bannermen: a courageous lot of men and women, loyal to a fault, who had loved and respected Ned Stark and were now seeking revenge for what had been done to their Liege Lord. They seemed to hold Robb in great regard and were now supporting him in this quest for vengeance and independence. She could tell that the boy she had birthed was gone and now a man had taken his place. Unfortunately, she had lost all trace of her two daughters. Sansa was a hostage in King’s Landing and Arya had disappeared. So she turned to what she did have: Bran and Rickon and the castle she had called Home for the best part of her life.

 

She kept frequent communications with Robb. He would tell her about the war and she would advise and counsel him. Apparently, in order to cross the river at the Green Fork he had had to make a deal with Walder Frey. He had agreed to marry one of the old man’s granddaughters once he returned with Ned from King’s Landing. It had all been for naught: Ned had still died. But a deal was a deal, so being his father’s son, he immediately arranged for the wedding to take place after he had avenged his father, defeated the Lannisters and won freedom for the North from the yoke of the capital – those had been Robb’s exact words.

 

 

The war efforts were apparently going well and yielding good results. Robb kept winning battles and had even managed to capture the Kingslayer. He kept her abreast of his victories and plans, but also of his doubts. They needed a bigger army and allies if they wanted to defeat he Lannisters. He had suggested joining Renly Baratheon in his bid for the crown, but Catelyn had suggested joining Stannis instead. He was in fact the rightful heir and the one Ned would have supported. In the end Robb had mentioned sending Theon to his father to rally the Ironborn. She had never liked Theon, she certainly had never trusted him. But Robb had. Going against her counsel, he had sent Theon to negotiate with his father, Balon Greyjoy.

 

And that’s how they had arrived at this point. Theon had betrayed Robb’s trust, amassed his own army and attacked Winterfell. She was a prisoner in her own home.

 

The knock on the door brought her back to reality.

 

“Lady Stark”, said Theon standing at the door. “I hope you’re comfortable”.

“What do you want?” she replied coldly.

“So no small talk. All right, then. The castle is mine, with everything in it: the weapons, the food, the drinks, the servants, the women, your children … you”.

“Leave the children out of this, Theon. Rickon is but five, and Bran is defenseless”

“It’s not the children I want. I want you to marry me”

“Have you lost your wits?” she snorted. “Why would I marry you? It’s only a few moons ago that I became a widow. I still mourn my husband. Besides, you’re a low life scum, a turncoat who would betray the people who treated you like family”.

“You were never family!!” he yelled. “And you have no choice. The castle is mine”

“I will never marry you, Theon Greyjoy!” she said as she stood up and started walking towards him. “Now, leave my chambers”.

 

He took a few steps forwards in her direction. She never saw the fist coming until it made contact with her face.

 

“You will marry me, Lady Stark. I need the loyalty of the men in your house and I can only get it through you. Do not flatter yourself. It’s not your bed that I want, it’s your power and influence. I’ll get Maester Luwin to fix you up. You need to look nice for the wedding. Good bye _Lady Greyjoy_ ” he spat as he left.

 


	2. The Prince of Winterfell (Theon)

 

“Heir to the Throne in the Iron Islands. Prince of Winterfell. Lord of Pyke.”

 

“Not bad, not bad at all. And it’s all mine. I have earned it. I paid the iron price for it.” … _But, I paid more than the Iron price. I paid with my soul. And I may never get the change back._

 

“It’s all mine. And I deserve it. For years the Starks have spat on the good name of my family, the Greyjoys of the Iron Islands. They have made a mockery of my father and his rebellion. Lord Stark killed my brothers and took me prisoner. Now it’s my turn. The Greyjoys will rise again. I’ll mock their rebellion and take their family”…. _But they never mistreated me. I never lacked for anything and they did welcome me into their hearts._

 

“The Starks are not my family. Balon Greyjoy is my father. Asha is my sister. Alannys is my mother. Rodrik and Maron were my brothers. I’m doing this for them.” … _But Robb is my brother, maybe not in name and in blood, but he is my brother in heart. “Now and always” we swore. I may have mocked the bastard Jon Snow, but he actually never gave me reason to. Bran used to look up to me whenever he saw me sparring and Rickon, the little one, never gave me cause to hate him. Sansa, so sweet and innocent, and Arya so wild and careless; great girls the both of them. Lord Stark, he may not have been my father, but he did raise me as one. He brought me up along his own sons and taught me the values and codes a man should live by. Lady Stark, while she may give the outward appearance of a haughty and arrogant woman, I know what she is like in reality. She is in fact a great mother, and I myself have been on the receiving end of her care on occasion. I know the Starks inside out, I know their weaknesses and what makes them strong. And I know I have hurt them._

 

“Anybody who denies me or dares defy me will suffer the consequences. Rivens, that lowly man from the stables shouldn’t have confronted me. He paid for his insult. I AM THE PRINCE AND NOBODY DEFIES ME!” … _Rivens’s severed head now adorns the entrance to the courtyard and his headless body still hangs from the balcony for the crows to peck on it. Oh Rivens, you taught me how to ride and showed me how to tame horses. And this is how I repay you._

“My father will be proud. I am the son he always wanted. The son Ned Stark stole from him. Now, where is Ned Stark? Who holds his castle? Ha! I am a true Ironborn!” … _Ned Stark is dead and I hold his castle. The castle I grew up in. I joined a war to avenge his death and defend this castle. Why am I doing this? Is this for me or for my father? What am I trying to prove? To whom?_

 

_Well, what’s done is done, it’s no use dwelling_.

 

“I am the Prince of Winterfell now and I’m claiming the North in the name of the Iron Islands. The Ironborn have taken Deepwood Motte and Torrhen’s Square. With Winterfell under my command it is time to stake my claim and make it public”

 

With that last statement he got out of bed, washed his face and his member in the basin and put on his clothes. As he was tying his breeches he told the young brunette to get out of his room. “You’ve done well, Tyra.”

“It’s Kyra, m’lord. And thank you”

“You should be honored. You may carry the son of the Prince of Winterfell in your belly one day” _and if it’s not you, it will be Jenna or Mysta or that little black haired girl from the kitchens. Or maybe even Lady Catelyn herself, after I marry her._

 

Leaving his doubts aside, he strode out of his chambers with a purpose and headed to Lord Stark’s solar - _my solar now_ , he thought. He had been here many times as a child, some invited, many of them not. He had been here whenever Lord Eddard Stark wanted to share news with the boys, whenever he was to be scolded alongside his “brothers”, whenever Lord Stark needed help with the loggers and parchments. But he had also sneaked inside the solar whenever he was short of coin, he knew exactly where Lord Stark kept his coffers. When he had first arrived in Winterfell, he used to lock himself up in the solar to write letters to his family. Having seen both his father and Lord Stark go to their respective studies to write their documents, he mistakenly thought that was the only purpose of the room and the only room which could be used for writing. Whenever he would come to this solar to write letters to his family (his mother mainly, and a few times to his father) he would feel a rebellious streak coursing through his veins: he was a prisoner writing letters of freedom. It was not until years later that he discovered that Eddard Stark had known along that he was using the solar and had let him do it.

 

So, with the same purpose in mind he strode into the solar. Grabbing paper and quill he started to stake his claim.

 

_“Lords of Westeros,_

_It is with great pleasure that I announce that there is a new ruler in the North. The Starks have lost their seat. The Ironborn have taken the North and the brave soldiers of the Iron Islands are now in control of this Kingdom, from the western cliffs in the Stony Shore to the frozen woods of Deepwood Motte, from Moat Cailin to Winterfell._

_As of now, you shall address any communication to King Balon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands or his son, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of Winterfell.”_

 

 

Soon, a flock of black ravens leaving the rookery filled the sky. News will spread and his glory will be known.

 


	3. The Bastard's Help (Robb)

Robb Stark, King in the North, was currently in the Riverlands at the ancient home of his mother, Riverrun, holding a council meeting with his men. His party consisted of several Northern Lords who had answered the call when he had first called the banners to march south to free his father, and many River Lords answering the call made by the Lord Paramount of the Trident, his own grandfather Hoster Tully. Unfortunately Lord Hoster was very ill and bed ridden, so most of the decisions in the Riverlands fell to Hoster’s brother, Brynden Tully, also known as the Blackfish. As much as Robb respected his grandfather and wished him well, he was somewhat grateful for the fact that it was Brynden Tully accompanying him on the campaign since he had come to respect the man and trust in his advice.

 

Robb looked at the men in front of him and beckoned them to be quiet. He had a parchment in his hands, but the way he was clutching the paper and crumpling it within his fingers made it obvious the news were not good. The contents of the letter had made him angry. Gone was the boyish grin and the youthful sparkle in his eyes. His face sported a grimace of anger with tight lips, flared nostrils and a fiery look. He had come a long way, he thought. _If only father could see me, but he can’t!_ He had started this war to gain his father’s freedom only for his father to be executed and his home taken by a friend, _a former friend. “My brother, now and always” they had sworn._

 

After he read the contents of the letter to his banner men, who had reacted in the same way he had, the spate of insults could not be stopped.

“Craven!!”

“Turn cloak!!”

“Good for nothing Iron bastards!!”

 

After the men had satiated their lust for blood with a barrage of angry words and empty threats he addressed his audience again.

 

“The North has been taken by the Iron born. A person we trusted has betrayed us. I cannot abide by treachery and betrayal. Our home needs help. Deepwood Motte, Torrhen’s Square, Moat Cailin, Barrowtown, and even Winterfell. They have all fallen to the Ironborn. I cannot call myself King in the North if I cannot defend the North.”

 

“I have made a decision. We are fighting two fronts here: to the South against the people who wronged my father and ravaged the Riverlands, and to the North against the people who have taken our lands. Would that we could all stay together and continue in this victorious trend that has us close to defeating the Lannisters. But it cannot be. We need to retake what is ours. That is why I have decided that the Northern army will go back with me to fight the Ironborn and the Riverland men will stay under the command of Lord Edmure Tully to fight the Lannisters.”

 

His speech was well received, but there were some dissenting voices as well. Some of the northern men were eager to go home and crush the Ironborn. Some were more hesitant.

“We’ve come so far, we cannot go back now” someone said. “We’ll lose all we’ve accomplished.”

Some of the River lords, even if they understood the sentiment of the Northern men, were a bit apprehensive about having their army split in two and their numbers dwindle.

“The Lannisters may come back and retaliate, and we won’t have enough men to stop them”

 

A quiet voice rose from the back. “Your Grace,” Lord Bolton addressed Robb, “If you will allow me, I think I may have a solution that could be advantageous for all the parties involved.”

“Proceed Lord Bolton” said Robb.

“My bastard son, Ramsay, remained at the Dreadfort. My House has not been taken by the Ironborn. I could send word to him to gather his men and take Winterfell in your name.”

“How many men do you have in your household, Lord Bolton?” asked GreatJon Umber.

“I believe the numbers could reach to about five hundred” he replied.

“Five hundred we could have used in our war here! Why didn’t you bring them south with you?” the GreatJon retorted.

“We all brought our men and that’s why our Houses were left defenseless. What prompted you to keep yours?” added Lord Glover with suspicion.

“I suppose it’s a blessing that I did” replied Bolton quietly. “Now we have an army within a few days of Winterfell to fight back the Ironborn.”

“Easy for you to say, your House has not been attacked!” shouted Lord Tallhart accusingly.

“The North is my House and the North has been attacked. I left my men there in response to reports that wildlings had been breaching the Wall. Should any of these savages come into our lands, there would have been no stopping them with all our able fighting men in the South.” Bolton replied in a calm voice.

“Enough!!” Robb decided to put an end to the squabble. “Regardless of why Bolton has men at the Dreadfort, it is indeed good news he has them. You will send word to you son to go ahead and attack the Greyjoys.”

“A raven will have to fly over Ironborn occupied Northern lands, it could always be shot down. A messenger going by sea will be there within two weeks” suggested Lord Blackwood.

“A small contingent of fighters going by sea will be there within two weeks” added Lord Brynden Tully.

“What are you suggesting Lord Tully?” asked Robb.

“That I go myself with a couple hundred men to deliver the message and aid Lord Bolton’s son”.

 “I’m sure my son will appreciate the help” Bolton said with an unreadable smile in his thin lips.

“That’s it!? Only the men from the Dreadfort, cravens who decided to stay within the comforts of their House instead of joining us in the war for Lord Eddard and a couple of hundred of ours?! This is madness. We should all go! It’s my House we’re talking about! It’s all our Houses” yelled an outraged Lord Tallhart.

“Lord, Tallhart, you are more than welcome to join me, if you wish” Brynden Tully tried to appease the angry Northerner. “You can pick two hundred of your men to come North with us. The Iron Islands are a small territory compared to the rest of the Kingdoms, and their population is not as large. So, if their men are spread thin across the North in various locations, I venture they keep skeleton crews in each castle. Seven hundred men should suffice to win back Winterfell and then lead on the offensive to the rest of the North from there. ”

“Aye, aye” replied a still unconvinced Tallhart.

“It is decided then” Robb finally said. “Lords Tully and Tallhart you will leave within two days. You will sail the Red Fork east out into the sea, sail North and then take the river to the Dreadfort. You should sail far away from land to avoid being spotted.”

“We shall, Your Grace. We will vanquish the traitorous Ironborn, free Winterfell and the rest of the North and bring you Theon Greyjoy’s head”

 

A loud victorious roar filled the room. Conversations ranged from one topic to another, but they never strayed from their main focus: The Ironborn and how to defeat them, which city to strike first, what to do with their leaders once captured, and who would be the lucky one to cut off Theon’s head …

 

“Lord Tully, a word” Robb addressed his mother’s uncle before they left the Hall.

“Yes, Your Grace”

“I need two favours from you. Number one, send my regards to my mother and brothers and make sure they have not been harmed.”

“Of course, Your Grace. You need not ask me that” the Blackfish smiled knowingly. Robb knew the man had always had a soft spot for his favourite niece, his own mother Catelyn Tully.

“Of course” Robb smiled back. “The second favour …” he trailed.

“Yes, Your Grace” he prompted.

“Theon Greyjoy” Robb spat through clenched teeth.

“Yes, Your Grace, I’ll bring you his head” he promised.

“No, Uncle. I need you to bring him to me alive. I want to look him in the eyes and ask him Why, before I cut off his head myself”

 


	4. A Bold Plan (Maester Luwin)

“Easy now, Lady Stark, I need to apply this on your face”, said Maester Luwin as he applied ointment on her cheek. Lady Stark could be many things (both good and bad), but unfortunately stubborn was one of them. For some reason she kept taunting and confronting Theon when she knew she shouldn’t. Also, for some reason, Theon had not hurt her much aside from an occasional slap. At the beginning Maester Luwin was truly afraid for the safety of all the residents in Winterfell, especially the ruling House (which at the moment consisted only of the two young boys and the Lady herself). He could not deny he feared Theon would harm the boys or even kill them to ensure there were no Stark heirs to challenge him, or that he may do horrible things to Lady Stark. The fact that he was waiting to bed Lady Catelyn until after they had been wed and had not forced himself upon her surprised him. Maybe the boy was not as vicious as he wanted people to believe.

“That weasel needs to die” she said gritting her teeth.

“I have to agree with you, my Lady. I have never liked that boy.”

 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As Maester he had taken upon the education of the Stark children and had included Theon in his lessons as one of the boys. He was never able to get a full grasp of the Ironborn ward. There always seemed to be something he was hiding. He had tried to get closer to him, but to no avail. Theon would always give the outward impression of an arrogant self-sufficient man, when in reality Master Luwin could tell he was just an insecure boy in need of praise and reassurance. Maybe that’s what had prompted him to do something like this. Maybe he decided to attack the North in an attempt to impress his own people.

 

“At least he didn’t do much damage. The bruise on your face should fade in a few days” he said when he was done.

“Thank you, Maester Luwin” she replied with an appreciative soft smile. “Has he harmed the children?”

“No. Both Rickon and Bran are fine.” He knew that anything Theon said or did to her was nothing compared to the helplessness and rage she felt about being locked up. Not knowing what was going on in the castle was getting to her nerves, but not being able to see her children was killing her.

“Don’t tell them that Theon attacked me. He wants me to marry him. He wants to become Lord of Winterfell. I can’t do that. But if I don’t, I’m afraid he’ll take it out on the boys.”

“I’ll protect the boys, and Osha is with them day and night. They will be safe, do not fret, my Lady.”

“Thank you very much. I couldn’t bear it if Theon were to hurt them.”

“Unfortunately I regret to inform you that I was not able to send a messenger to Robb as you requested. The boy was spotted by one of the guards as he made his escape in the night”

“Oh, no” she whispered in defeat. “Is the boy all right?”

 

Maester Luwin just shook his head. He had seen the boy being taken to the dungeons and then when he saw one of Theon’s soldiers bring out a corpse, he had the nagging feeling he knew whose body that was.

 

“What about ravens?”

“Sorry, my Lady. The few ravens I was able to send have all been shot down.”

“Then, we are on our own, Maester Luwin. We need to make a plan ourselves” she finally said with a new flash of vigour in her eyes. “Can the cooks poison their food?”

“No, my Lady. He always makes sure we eat the same food as his men. He has become extremely paranoid as of late”

“Being locked up here, I have no idea what goes on in the castle. Do we have access to the armory? Are any of our men armed?”

“No, my Lady. Theon made sure all our men handed all their weapons and he keeps the armory heavily guarded. However, some of our people still have their tools: shovels, rakes, axes and kitchen utensils including knives. And we outnumber them.”

 

The door to Catelyn’s chambers opened and a soldier came in.

“Time’s up! Go back to your chores old man. The Lady will rest.” And with that he pushed Maester Luwin out of the room.

 

With Lady Stark being confined to her chambers, the task of devising a plan fell on Maester Luwin’s shoulders. Because he was the Maester, he had full access to all the areas in the castle and all the people there. Theon had allowed him to tend to Lady Stark and the children. Plus he still kept his office and was able to communicate with the servants and some of the Stark soldiers.

 

They didn’t have much time and did not have access to any weapons with Theon’s men guarding the armory. So they came up with a very simple plan. A kitchen servant would make sure to put a bottle of spiked wine in Catelyn’s room; Lady Stark would agree to marry Theon and when they were making arrangements for the upcoming wedding she would somehow make sure he had a drink so when he fell unconscious they could kill him. The idea was for Maester Luwin to be in the room as well and to have Rodrick Cassel wait in a nearby hallway in case they needed assistance. With all the commotion caused by Theon’s death, they hoped the Ironborn would be easy to overtake. The fewer people who knew about it, the better. So far the only people aware of the plan were Luwin himself, Catelyn, Cassel and Jocri, the little black haired girl from the kitchens. The plan was not foolproof by any means; any number of things could go wrong. But it was all they had.

 

Within a couple of days everything was ready to set the plan in motion. Filled with dread and determination, Maester Luwin stepped into Theon’s room.

 

“Lady Stark wishes to speak to you. She has finally decided to accept your proposition.”

“Of course she has. The first rule to victory is not to have the best weapons, but to know your adversary’s greatest weaknesses. I knew threatening her children would do the trick” he smiled smugly.

“Yes, my Lord”

“My Prince” Theon corrected him.

“Yes, my Prince. Shall we proceed to her chambers? She wishes to converse with you and have everything written down in an official logger.”

“Lead the way, old man” Theon answered and patted him in the back. Maester Luwin had to suppress his anger at being treated so pettily by someone he had actually cared for before.

 

When they arrived at Catelyn’s door Theon signaled for two of his guards to stand by the entrance. Cassell would have to wait further up the hall and if things turned sour he would have to fight two armed guards, Luwin thought with a pang in his gut. They had better take care of things on their own at the Lady’s chambers since he didn’t think they could count on Cassels’s help in this matter. _First part of the plan, first hitch, not a good omen._

 

“So, you’ve finally agreed to my proposition” Theon told Catelyn as soon as he stepped into her room. He cracked his fingers and sat down on the stool by the table waiting for her to continue.

“Do I have a choice?” she said icily and then she asked tentatively “When will the ceremony take place?”

“As soon as we can. I have already made all the arrangements. I was just waiting for your consent” he winked at her.

“I have some conditions, though”

“You’re in no position to ask for conditions, Lady Stark. But out of courtesy, I’ll listen to you. Take this down old man,” he addressed Maester Luwin, “this will be for you official loggers” he added with a derisive sneer. Again, it took Maester Luwin all his trained self-control not to throttle the boy in front of him.

“I will keep my Stark ring. I will wear your kraken sigil, but will not remove the Stark direwolf” Lady Catelyn started.

“No. Next?” came the smug reply

Catelyn closed her eyes and sighed in defeat before continuing. “My children will not attend the ceremony. They lost their father not long ago. I don’t want them to think I’ve forgotten him already.”

“All right” he accepted without putting much thought to it.

“Thank you.”

“As I said, I don’t want to harm Bran and Rickon, Lady Stark. Anything else?” So far Catelyn was sticking to the script they had concocted and Theon was acting the way they had expected.

“Yes, one more thing. There will be no bedding.”

“Oh, yes there will be” he smirked eyeing her from head to toe. “If you want we can skip the bedding ceremony, I understand if you don’t want your former servants seeing you without your clothes. But there will be a bedding” Again, Theon was reacting the way they had anticipated. Yet, if their plan succeeded all these condition and concessions would be for naught. _If their plan succeeded …._

 

Catelyn closed her eyes in resignation and pointed at the wine.

“May I?” she asked. When he nodded she poured herself a glass. “Would you like a glass, Theon?”

“Sure, why not?”

 

She poured another glass for Theon and waited for him to drink it. But he didn’t.

 

“Maester Luwin, if we are to make this arrangement official for your loggers,” Theon said instead, cocking his head sideways and grinning after the word _official_ , “I think you should have a glass as well”.

“Thank you, My Prince, I don’t drink”

“C’mon old man, I’m sure you must be thirsty. What with spending your days behind old papers and mysterious potions, you must get very thirsty. We can’t have you write your official loggers on a dry throat.” Again, that hideous grin decked his face.

 

Catelyn looked at Maester Luwin with a question in her eyes. He just nodded and accepted the glass being poured for him. After this unanticipated exchange, Catelyn started to put her glass to her mouth but made sure the wine did not touch her lips. Theon waited and gestured for her to drink. Paranoid as he was and not fully trusting her, he stared at her.

 

“Not thirsty, Lady Stark?” he asked.

“May I sit down? I don’t feel so well. You have to understand Theon, this is all too much. Ned was killed a short while ago. I can’t just marry and bed another man. A man much younger than me. I feel very uncomfortable now. I had hoped the drink would help me, but .. I just .. I don’t know” she said putting the glass down and hoping Theon would buy the act.

“I’ll drink with you if you want” Theon supplied with an insincere court smile.

“No, I think I’ll pass. I’m a bit dizzy as it is”.

“No, Lady Stark”, he said pulling out a dagger “You will drink it”

“What?”

“You heard me, drink it. You too, old man.”

“What? Do you think it’s poisoned? You control everything in this castle, Theon. There’s no way I could have brought poisoned wine to my room even if I had wanted to” Catelyn sounded genuinely enraged

“Drink it” he said putting the knife to Maester Luwin’s neck.

“All right, I’ll drink it. I’ll show you it’s not poisoned” and she had a small sip.

“All of it. Bottoms up, Lady Stark”

 

Maester Luwin locked eyes with her trying to silently reassure her that everything would be all right. Even if she were to fall unconscious, they still had Rodrik Cassel just outside and they would be able to take care of things and bring the plan to fruition. Or so he hoped. … Seeing no way out, Catelyn emptied the glass never taking her eyes off Theon.

 

“I guess I misjudged you. I may have overestimated your strength, Lady Stark. You’re still a subdued damsel who does everything she’s told” he said with contempt. “Now it’s your turn old man. Bottoms up!”

“I really do not drink, Prince Theon. Wine does not go well with my aging body”.

“Well, in that case we’ll just patiently wait for the drugs to take effect. When the Lady collapses you’ll help her to bed. Make sure you include that in your official loggers, as well” he mocked.

 

Maester Luwin and Catelyn exchanged looks of surprise and defeat. She was already starting to sway and her eyes started to become unfocused.

 

“Sleepy time my dear Catelyn” Theon cooed her like a child. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t know? I have my sources in the kitchens. Go to sleep now. And don’t forget about our upcoming nuptials!” he cheered with a mocking snicker.

 

When he saw Catelyn starting to fall and desperately try to get a hold the table, Maester Luwin quickly sprinted to his feet and helped her to bed. She opened her mouth but nothing really came out.

 

“At a loss for words, my Lady?” came Theon’s arrogant voice followed by an irritating guffaw.

 

Once Catelyn was unconscious in her bed Maester Luwin turned to face Theon. Still sitting on the stool, he waved the knife menacingly at him. Their plan had failed miserably and now they would probably have to face the consequences. He pursed his lips and waited for Theon to deliver his punishment.

 

“Oh, old man, you are too trusting for your own good. Don’t worry, I was expecting something like this. I just didn’t think you and the lady would be so bold. You will go back to your chores as if nothing had happened. Nobody will learn of this incident. Don’t fret old man, no punishment will come to you or the lady. I truly have no wish to harm either of you. Just make sure she is fit to wed me next week.”

 

With a resigned look on his face and a disheartened sigh Luwin nodded and left the room.

 

_We have been defeated and outsmarted. Now we are truly at his mercy. Still, he could have, and probably should have, had us killed us or punished, but he didn’t. Maybe not all is lost._

 


	5. The North Remembers (Brynden Tully)

A Riverlander through and through, Brynden Tully really loved sailing. Like a true soldier he could ride and he certainly could march for hours on end, but being on a boat was a completely different matter. It was his element and he was born for that. That’s why he regretted when the journey came to an end and they had to get on their horses.

 

A Riverlander he was, but he was a journey man as well. Having participated in many wars and battles since he was young and having escaped his house after that infamous row with his brother, the Blackfish had been to almost all the Kingdoms in the realm, and the North was not an exception. He had indeed visited her niece Catelyn in Winterfell on more than one occasion. As happy as he had been to visit his family, he had never been a fan of the north: too cold, too grey.

 

And his impression did not change after they stepped off the boats and rode the last remaining miles to the Dreadfort: grey walls, grey trees, and even the people were dressed in grayish shades of grey; frozen ponds and steeples covered in snow ( _already? but it’s not even winter yet?_ ). Grey and cold.

 

That’s why meeting Lord Bolton’s son ended up being such a pleasant surprise. The boy was young, probably around Robb’s age, but he radiated maturity and responsibility. He was an affable, joyous boy who was also quick with a joke. With a very polite manner he welcomed them to the Dreadfort.

 

“If my father thought to send you with the message, there must be a reason he trusted you, Ser” Ramsay greeted the Blackfish.

 

After a short nap and a very welcome reinvigorating supper, Lord Tully and Lord Tallhart met with Ramsay Bolton in his solar.

“As you may have heard,” the Blackfish started “many locations in the North have been attacked by the Ironborn.”

“My House has been attacked!” interjected Lord Tallbart.

“Yes, Torrhen’s Square, Moat Cailin, Deepwood Motte, and others” the Blackfish interrupted Tallhart before he started on his rant about how the Boltons had kept an army in their castle, how they had not joined the war and had not come in the defence of the North. He had heard enough of that in the journey from Riverrun for the past two weeks. “Even Winterfell has fallen. Theon Greyjoy has taken up residence in Winterfell and has been calling himself Prince of Winterfell”

“It is with a saddened heart that I receive these news, my Lords” Ramsay replied with a look of surprise in his eyes. “The North? I can’t believe the gall of these Ironborn! How dare they?” he continued shaking his head. “Had we known we would have acted sooner.”

“Did you not receive a raven from Winterfell?”

“No, Ser”

“I was under the impression he had sent the message to all and sundry” the Blackfish said pensively.

“Or maybe he never told us because he means for us to be his next objective” Ramsay suggested.

“It makes sense. It is usually not smart to tell the people you are about to attack that they are next” Brynden commented and they all shared a laugh.

“So, while you were resting, I took the liberty of reading the message my father sent. If he wants us to aid in the delivery of Winterfell, my men will be more than willing to do so. Just give the word and they’ll be ready”

“We have reason to believe Theon holds Winterfell with a skeleton crew. Ironborn numbers are not that high and if they are spread across the North…”

“The North as a whole is being held by a skeleton crew given that most of our men rode South with King Robb” Tallhart interjected looking straight at Ramsay.

“True” the Blackfish stopped him in a conciliatory tone. “Be that as it may, the fact that the Ironborn are spread wide may actually work in our favour.”

“We take Winterfell first and then we move west! We are ready and my men will be eager for action!” Ramsay said with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

“How many men do you have?”

“Here in the castle we have about five hundred. I know I can get a couple hundred from Hornwood, Lady Donella was here just a few weeks ago and I know I can get her to give us some men. I could have more if it weren’t for that envoy from the Night’s Watch.”

“What envoy?”

“Oh, Lord Stark’s bastard. He was here just last week asking for recruits for the Watch. I emptied the dungeons and gave him my men. I know he is touring all the castles and towns in the North looking for recruits. We may even come across him on our way. Actually, on second thought, that might not be a bad thing. Being from Winterfell himself, he might be inclined to defend his home. We might be able to convince him to aid us!”

“We might,” Brynden Tully said unconvinced “but isn’t the Night Watch not supposed to interfere in the affairs of the realm?”

“But it’s his home!” yelled Tallhart. “Of course he would come. He is Ned’s Stark boy, he will defend Winterfell and the North”

“Not any more, he isn’t. He was Ned Stark’s son, but now he is a brother of the Night Watch. And precisely because he was Ned’s son, he will act with honor. I don’t think he would forsake his vows. I met the boy only but a couple of times and did not really get very close to him, but everything I have heard about him tells me he will take his vows seriously. I could be wrong, hopefully. Maybe if we do come across him we can try and convince him to join us, but I wouldn’t get my hopes too high on this.”

“We’ll see. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But for now we have a war to plan. The North remembers and the Ironborn will be crushed. Mark my words!” Ramsay Bolton cheered rubbing his hands together with excitement and anticipation.

 

 

It took them almost three days to make it to Hornwood. Ramsay asked to be permitted to go alone to speak with Lady Donella.

“We have a certain relationship, her and I, if you understand my meaning” he had explained with a wink and a grin. And yes, the meaning had been perfectly understood.

 

“I wonder if Lord Hornwood approves of this” Lord Tallhart commented to Brynden Tully after Ramsay had left.

“I don’t think he even knows. Well, we don’t really know what sort of relationship they have. It’s just mere speculation on our part.”

“Oh, no! Not speculation at all. Did you see his face? He’s fucking her! That’s for sure.”

“We don’t know” the Blackfish repeated.

“Tell you what. Let’s make it a bet. If Ramsay shows up after dawn with the men, then they are sleeping together and I win. If he shows up within a couple of hours with the men, then there’s nothing between them and you win.”

“What if he comes back without the men?” the Blackfish challenged him.

“Then, in that case, my friend, we both lose” Tallhart replied with a dry laugh

“So what’s the wager? What does the winner get?”

“The winner will be the one to hand Theon over to King Robb”

“Deal” the Blackfish said spitting on his had and extending it to Tallhart. “Challenge accepted” he added as they shook hands.

“Are you truly so sure they are not together?”

“No, I’m just bored and I wanted a bit of fun” Brynden Tully shrugged his shoulders and they both started laughing.

 

It was right after dawn when Ramsay came back to the forest accompanied by a couple hundred men.

 

Overall it was not a bad army, the Blackfish thought. Over nine hundred trained soldiers to overcome, what he believed and hoped to be, a skeleton crew of Ironborn men in Winterfell. Once Winterfell was free, they would be able to get more men from the castle itself and the surrounding villages and continue on their campaign to free the North.

 

Three days later they could see the walls of Winterfell in the horizon. Three young looking soldiers from the Dreadfort were sent to investigate the situation. They were supposed to disguise themselves as singers and music players touring the country playing for food and shelter. If everything went according to plan, they would go into the castle, talk to the ruling Lord, Theon in this case, and play their music for the ladies and the families in the House. While pulling off their farce they were supposed to get an idea of how many men Theon had guarding the castle and where they were placed. The question was, would Theon let them in?

 

With bated breath the Blackfish and his companions waited for the three young soldiers to return. When they finally did, it was, fortunately, with good news. Just as they had expected, Theon had very few soldiers with him. There was only one archer in each tower, and not even seventy men inside the castle.

 

“I say we storm the gates. They won’t be able to stop us!” a hot-blooded Ramsay suggested

“They will see us coming. He might use the Stark family as shields” Tallhart said.

“He won’t have time! We’ll start running as soon as we are past the edge of the woods. That will only give them a few minutes’ warning that we are coming. By the time they are ready for us we’ll be at the walls. We have archers, so we can take Theon’s archers first, before they even start shooting. Then we break the gate and climb the walls. It should be a walk in the park!” Ramsay’s eyes were glowing and he could barely suppress his excitement.

The boy obviously had never been to war if he was so eager to rush into battle, Brynden guessed. “It sounds rash, but I think we can actually pull it off” he said. And then he turned to Tallhart and added “The sooner we get there, the sooner you will surrender Theon to Robb, my friend.”

“Fine, let’s do it” Tallhart agreed.

 

The battle was indeed as easy as they had expected. Almost a thousand men sprinted off the woods in the direction of Winterfell, arms raised and roaring as they ran. Ten men stopped a few yards short of the wall and prepared their bows. Their arrows found the archers in the towers first and then they went for the men standing in the battlements. The rest of the army made it to the gates of Winterfell led by the Blackfish himself.

 

Using the trunk of a tree as a battering ram they broke the gate and stormed inside. _We can always get a carpenter and a smith to repair it once this is over_ , the Blackfish thought. Once inside the courtyard of Winterfell it was easy to round up the Ironborn soldiers and subdue them.

 

Theon, however, would not be so easy to take. He came out of the main door dragging a young boy by the hair with a knife to his throat.

 

“If you move any closer I will slit Bran’s throat!” he threatened.

“No, Theon, please!” Catelyn Stark came running behind him.

“Quiet! Lay down your weapons and leave the way you came or I will kill Ned Stark’s son!” he told the northern men now swarming the yard.

“You will do no such thing” Brynden told him. “You kill the boy and there is not one soul on this country that will not want your head. Release the boy and no harm will come to you and your men. We will take you to Robb and you have my word we won’t hurt you if …” his speech was cut short by a loud thud and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

 

Theon fell to the ground unconscious and a beaming Ramsay Bolton stood behind him with a club in his hand. “Done” was all he said and then winked at the Blackfish.

 

The Blackfish wasted no time and instructed his men to tie up Theon and take his limp form to the dungeons. He then ran to his niece who was kneeling by her son.

 

“Oh, uncle! Thank you so much!” she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. Running a warm hand through her hair and kissing her forehead the Blackfish returned the gesture. “Thank you so much to all of you. The Starks of Winterfell will never forget this” she said addressing all the men in the yard.

“We couldn’t have done this without the help of Lord Bolton’s son, Ramsay” Brynden Tully said.

 

Brynden Tully was always a fair man. He was harsh when he needed to, but he was also grateful and quick with the praise when the situation called for it. And this time, the situation called for Ramsay Bolton’s efforts and bravery to be praised. And that’s what everybody toasted to at the feast that night.

 

“The North Remembers!”

“For the North!”

“For Winterfell!”

“For the Starks!”

“For Ramsey Bolton!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Ramsay Bolton is the hero for now … One of the things I liked about Asoiaf is how the characters act upon what THEY know and believe. That's why Ned went to Cersei first instead of Robert, that's why Catelyn trusted Baelish (he was her best friend and the only one looking out for her in KL), that's why Sansa told Cersei the truth about her father (she had been taught Queens were honorable), etc. It is NOT that they make mistakes or act stupidly. On the contrary, their actions are rational and logical according to the information they have. They acted as most of us would have done in their place. Many characters are judged in hindsight or taking into account the bigger picture, which they themselves are not privy to. Yeah, WE knew Littlefinger had lied and that Cersei was not to be trusted, but there was no way THEY could know. In this story, with the information they have, Ramsay is a good guy and the hero of Winterfell.
> 
> This aspect is one of the things that bothers me the most about seasons 5 and 6 of the show. Characters do not act upon what THEY know, but upon what the audience knows. A good example is Jon's resurrection. Given what they know there is no logical reason for Davos to trust Melisandre (of all people!) to bring back from death a person they know nothing about, and actually everything they know about Jon is bad. It makes no sense! Another good example is how Dany trusts Tyrion implicitly and almost hands him the government. Given how paranoid she is, how she feels about the Lannisters and the fact that she doesn't know Tyrion at all, it makes absolutely no sense she would trust him so blindly. Yeah, WE know Jon and Tyrion are good guys, but THEY don't. … So, in my story I wanted to go back to the original spirit of Asoiaf where the characters only know what they have learned and seen themselves … The Blackfish, Catelyn and company are not being stupid, they are being human.


	6. A Secret Conversation (Catelyn)

“Oh, Uncle. Thank the Gods you were able to get here!” Catelyn told her uncle Brynden as they walked around the grounds of Winterfell the following day. The Iron bornhad not really done much damage to the castle and very few people had been hurt. Apparently Theon’s act of bravery had been more of a show than anything else. He took Winterfell and boasted about taking the whole North, but he hadn’t done much else.

“Did he hurt anyone?” her uncle asked her.

“Well, a bit, but not much. We had a few casualties, but definitely not what you would expect if your are attacked by the Ironborn”

“Your children, are they alright?”

“Bran is a bit distressed about what happened yesterday in the yard. But other than that they seem to be fine. They were worried because they were not allowed to see me while Theon kept me locked up. But Maester Luwin and Osha, this wildling woman that has been living here for some months now, took care of them.” She had to admit, at the beginning she was opposed to the idea of harbouring a wildling woman within the walls of Winterfell. Robb had let her stay in her absence and by the time she had retuned home, Bran had become very dependent on the woman. And now, after everything that had happened and after everything she had done, Catelyn was indeed grateful she was here and would be forever in her debt.

“Did he keep you locked up?” he asked worriedly

“Yeah, for a while before he let me go … I may have displeased him with some things I may have said or may have done.”

“Cat?”

“Yes?”

“What happened? What did you do? What did he do to you?”

“Nothing worth mentioning” she said not really wanting to tell her uncle about their foiled plot with the wine.

“Mhh, I heard otherwise. I heard something about a plan to kill him that went wrong.”

“Oh, well” she sighed. “As I said, he was quite tame for what I had envisioned at the beginning. I had truly feared the worst. But he just kept me locked in my chambers and said he wanted me to marry him so he could get an official hold over the castle and its titles. At first I refused, but he threatened the children, so Maester Luwin and I came up with a plan. I would agree to marry him and as we were arranging all the details we would try and make him drink spiked wine. In the end he saw through our deception and I ended up drinking the wine” she finished with a shrug and an embarrassed look on her face. “It was a stupid plan, but we couldn’t really come up with anything better.”

“What did he do to you when that failed?”

“Nothing”

“Cat?”

“Yes?”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked placing his hand on her cheek

“No” she shook her head. “Not much” she added with a slight grimace.

“Cat?”

“What? It’s the truth uncle. He did hit me a couple of times, but nothing serious.”

“Did he … umh .. take any liberties with you?” he fumbled uncomfortably. “I mean, when he said he would take you to wife, did he .. uhm .. hurt you?

“No” she replied and smiled at his concern. “He didn’t rape me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good” he replied visibly relieved. “Knowing the Ironborn, and especially after hearing of your little adventure with the wine, I was sure he would have …”

“So was I” she admitted. From the moment the Ironborn took over the castle, the probability of being raped had always been there, and every time Theon stepped into her chambers she feared his intentions. When she was made to drink the wine, knowing she would lose consciousness, she truly feared her time had come. But she was pleasantly surprised to wake in her bed untouched. “I guess he just didn’t find me attractive” she said flippantly trying to put an end to this conversation she was finding extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s got nothing to do with being attractive, Cat, and you know that.”

“I know Uncle. I’m just glad he didn’t. I’ll never know why, and truth be told, I don’t care why. All I care is that he didn’t really hurt me or the children or any of the other people here.”

“It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

“What Uncle?” She was getting exasperated now. “What does it make you wonder?”

“Well, it’s not like the Ironborn to attack a castle and not hurt their residents. They do have a tendency to have their way with the woman they capture.”

“Can we just be glad he didn’t!?”

“Aye, I’m sorry. I’m really glad you were not hurt” he smiled and caressed her face sweetly. “I just wonder about his motives for attacking Winterfell, that’s all.”

“He’s in the dungeons now. You are more than welcome to go and have a nice chat with him.”

 

Days went by and Catelyn was enjoying the feeling of just being able to roam freely around the castle and the company of her two young sons. Her uncle also kept her company joining her for supper every night and keeping her abreast of the ongoing plans on the offensive against the Ironborn in the rest of the kingdom.

 

“With the two hundred men that we brought from the South, five hundred supplied by Lord Bolton, two hundred by Lady Donella Hornwood, and those fifty soldiers of yours that we released from the dungeons last week, we have almost a thousand men” her uncle told her as he nibbled the steak on his plate.

“That’s not bad! So, what’s the plan?”

“The idea is to go to Torrhen’s Square first and after we’ve vanquished the Ironborn, hopefully we’ll get more men. Maybe Lady Dustin in Barrowtown can spare a few hundred soldiers” he continued in a monotone voice.

“Just don’t tell her you come from me” Catelyn snorted remembering the woman.

“Why? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, forget about it. Old history.” She didn’t really want to tell her uncle about Lady Dustin and Brandon, and how the lady felt she had taken all her men from her and even blamed Ned for the death of her husband. “So, you have about a thousand, plus whatever you can get from the Dustins and people from Torrhen’s Square …” she trailed and gestured for him to continue.

“And then we’ll divide the army. Half will go North to Deepwood Motte and the other half to Moat Cailin. We’re thinking that if we take Torrhen’s Square first, we’ll cut off their line of communication between Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin. After we have retaken these castles we’ll all march west and meet again at the Stony Shore. Lord Ramsay has kindly offered to stay here at Winterfell with a few of his most trusted guards for your protection”

“That’s very kind of him.”

 “Yeah” his voice faded and he was slowly picking at the potatoes on his plate.

“Sounds like a good plan” she tried again.

“Mhh” was his inexpressive reply. _What’s wrong with him?_ Her uncle did not sound nearly as enthusiastic as she thought he would.

“Should I tell the cooks you’ve gone on a diet?”

“Excuse me?” he asked her taken aback.

“The food” she said pointing at the plate with her chin. “You’re not eating.”

“Oh, no. The food is fine.”

“I know it is. I finished mine a long time ago. What’s troubling you? You won the battle against Theon’s men easily. You have a good standing army and a sound plan to deliver the North. What is it?”

“It’s Theon”

“Oh” she said with disdain. He could die for all she cared. “Did you speak to him?”

“Not quite.”

“Why not? You were so anxious to question him. You were so curious about his motives.”

“He’s not talking”

“Of course he’s not! He’s a prisoner in the dungeons! He won’t talk to you.”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t really know the lad that well. I only met him a few times when I visited you and then I saw him again down in the South when he was serving alongside Robb in the war.”

“Before he betrayed us” Catelyn interjected with venom in her voice.

“Yes, before he betrayed us. He impressed me as a strong and boisterous young man. Yet, the man sitting in that cell is a shell of the man I knew.”

“He’s your prisoner. You thwarted his plans. I don’t think he would feel very inclined to talk to you or that he would be boisterous about his defeat.”

“I don’t know” he replied pensively. Whatever was going on in her uncle’s head escaped Catelyn for the time being.

 

 

Everybody was very anxious about the upcoming campaign to free the North and rid their country of the Ironborn. Maester Luwin helped design maps and aided the Lieutenants with different features of the terrain surrounding Winterfell. The cooks were making extra provisions for the army to take, the smiths were producing more swords and weapons, and the seamstresses were repairing old clothes and making new ones for the men. Catelyn oversaw all these efforts with anticipation and glee. She relished the opportunity to be Lady of the House again and enjoyed actually having a useful purpose.

 

It was while overseeing the progress done by the smiths with Maester Luwin that they overheard two of Ramsay Bolton’s men talking.

“So they really have no clue, right?”

“No, they don’t” the other man chuckled.

“Stupid fools the lot of them! Overconfident southrons and pampered northerners! Living in such luxury their whole lives, they have no idea of what hardship really is!”

“Aye, and we’ll take it all from them!”

“And him?”

“Just another toy for the master to play with, I suppose”

“And the bitch? I want first dibs if the master is not interested!”

“There are so many cunts to choose from!”

“True, but first thing I’ll do is get rid of that dammed cripple. I’m fed up with his moaning and self wallowing pity and the stupid dim witted giant carrying him around!”

“Agreed, my friend!”

 

Upon hearing this last part Catelyn couldn’t help but gasp. Whatever they were planning involved killing her son! Yet, as soon as the soft sound escaped her lips she regretted it and placed her own hand on her lips.

 

“Did you hear that?” the Bolton man asked his companion.

“No, what is it?”

“Someone’s here. We should just go back, we don’t want them to start suspecting anyways.”

 

No sooner had the men left her sight than Catelyn turned to Maester Luwin. She gestured for him to be quiet and to follow her back into the castle. She went straight to her chambers and asked Maester Luwin to fetch her uncle.

 

“Cat, why so somber?” her Uncle asked her as soon as he entered her chambers.

“Grave news, uncle. Grave news” she replied. Brynden Tully headed to the table by the window and sat down. He gestured for her to sit next to him and urged her to continue. “Maester Luwin and I were overseeing the progress made by the smiths when we overheard two Bolton soldiers speaking.” She looked at the old Maester and he nodded in confirmation. “We believe they were talking about overpowering us and taking Winterfell. Uncle, they mean to kill Bran!”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Maester Luwin, has there been any communication between Lord Ramsay and anybody on the outside?” the Blackfish turned to the Maester.

“There has, my Lord. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but he has been receiving and sending letters. Unfortunately, I have not been privy to their content.”

“When was the last communication sent or received?”

“Two days past he sent a raven to his father. I truly saw no harm in it, I apologize. Another raven arrived last night, and one this morning. I have already delivered them to Lord Ramsay, I’m afraid. Yet, I know where he keeps his correspondence” he continued with a certain glow to his eyes. “As Maester of Winterfell I have keys to all the rooms. I know Lord Ramsay has just left the castle to go into the town, he should not be back until after midday sun” he finished raising his eyebrows and coking his head sideways.

“Oh, old Maester. Are you implying what I think you are?” her uncle teased him.

“A man is old, not by how many moons he has seen, but by how many tricks he has up his sleeves. And my sleeves are wide and long, my Lord”

“Indeed they are. I take it we have some letters to see about”

 

The three of them rushing to Ramsay’s chambers together would arouse suspicion, so they split up and went their separate ways. Maester Luwin went straight to Bolton’s room to retrieve the letters. Brynden Tully went to the armory to talk to the master-at-arms and then headed to the Maester’s study, while Catelyn joined her young sons in the Hall for a light snack before joining the other men.

 

When she arrived she saw her uncle with a letter in his hand clenching his jaw and the Maester squinting his eyes and pressing his lips together, a sign of distress in the old man if Catelyn could read him well.

 

“Sorry, we couldn’t wait. Bastards!” Brynden Tully spat.

“That bad?” she asked.

“Here, see for yourself” he replied handing her a letter. “This is from yesterday”

 

_Son,_

_I was glad to hear tidings of your endeavors in Winterfell. They will never see it coming. Make sure you wait for all the men to leave for Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin and keep your trusted band with you before you make your move. Make sure Winterfell is again defenceless. Do as you wish with the cripple and the bitch. I’ll take care of the young pup who fancies himself a king._

_Father._

 

“And this one has just arrived this morning” he handed her the other parchment.

 

_Son,_

_Everything has been arranged. Arrogant fool of a Stark slighted Walder Frey and the old weasel wanted his vengeance. This is the big opportunity I was hinting at in our previous communication, but I was just waiting for confirmation. Next month, there will be a wedding at the Twins between Edmure Tully and one of old Walder’s brood. But no vows will be said. Blood will flow instead of wine._

_We’ll take care of Robb Stark here in the South and you’ll take care of his family in Winterfell. The North will be ours my Son. Lord Tywin himself has assured me._

_Father._

 

“Gods, Uncle, they mean to kill us all!” cried a flabbergasted Catelyn.

“This whole good-guy routine has just been a ruse. They tricked us” her uncle replied somberly.

“Robb needs to learn about this. We have to warn him!” Catelyn started crying. “They are going to kill Bran and Robb, most likely Rickon too! We can’t let them, Uncle! They are going to attack us when we are most vulnerable, after you’ve all left!”

“Calm down, Cat” he replied trying to get a hold of her flailing arms. “We won’t let them.”

“How? The men are ready to leave Winterfell in two days. And more than half of the soldiers here today are Bolton men! They outnumber us. We can’t confront them here!”

“No, we can’t. We’ll lose if we do that. I’ll think of something. Trust me. I will leave with the host headed for Torrhen’s Square as planned so as not to raise the alarm, and we’ll take care of things after that. I’ll make sure Robb gets word of the plan against him.”

“All right” replied a somewhat more relieved Catelyn. “And what do we do meanwhile?”

“We act normal. Maester Luwin, return the letters to Lord Bolton’s room.”

 

After what had just transpired, Catelyn felt the need to spend time with her children and feel them close. The rest of the day and the one that followed was just pure torture. She knew the secret but cold not act upon it. She eyed everybody with suspicion and saw shadows at every corner.

 

Finally the moment came for all the men to leave. She talked to her uncle and wished him luck.

 

“It’ll be alright, little Cat” he reassured her. “You just hang on. I won’t be gone more than just a couple of days. I’m leaving twenty men behind to guard you and the children. We need to get far enough away from Winterfell so that Bolton does not get wind of our plan, but we’ll be back. I’ve already made sure to get all MY men in my host riding at the vanguard, I’ll have over two hundred soldiers with me. I also have Tallhart with Lady Hornwood’s men and the men we had here at Winterfell, which totals about three hundred, riding at the rear. We will sandwich Bolton’s men and catch them by surprise. We’ll try and dispose of all the Bolton men in our ranks. We won’t go to Torrhen’s Square, but we’ll return here instead. I’ll also make sure to send a message to Robb”

“Please be careful Uncle. And make haste” she practically begged him and kissed him goodbye.

“You too, Cat. Stay safe. I’ll be back soon.”

 

She trusted her uncle implicitly and had the utmost confidence in him and his plan, but she dreaded being left alone with Bolton. For the rest of the day she acted naturally and played the gracious host and she prayed to all her Gods that Bolton would not make his move until her Uncle had returned.

 

But her Gods were not listening.

 

“So, who wants to play King of the Castle?” came Ramsay’s smug voice from the end of the Hall as she was sitting for supper with her children. He unsheathed his knife and wielded it at her. His guards stood at the ready right beside him and circled Catelyn and the children. Their clothes were stained in red and their swords were wet with blood. “Your personal guards tried to play” he smirked “but they lost. Rickon, sweetheart, would you like to play the Fool?” he asked the youngest one of her children. “Bran, maybe you can be the guard? Oh, no, too bad you can’t walk, you cripple!” he mocked. “And Lady Catelyn would you like to be my honored guest?”

“Leave my children out of this Ramsay.”

“Or what? What will you do if I don’t?” he cruelly teased her.

“I can do nothing. I’m just asking you. Do whatever you want with me, but leave them alone. They’ve already suffered too much as it is” she said keeping eye contact with Ramsay and slowly making her way to stand next to the children.

Without blinking an eye and maintaining her eye contact he simply replied “Yes, they have.”

 _Oh Gods, please spare my children,_ she prayed. Suddenly Ramsay raised his eyes and looked at something behind her. She had no time to react before a black shadow sent her to oblivion.

 

.

.

It was a severe pain in her head that awoke her. It was still dark, she noticed. No, it wasn’t dark, her eyes were closed. She willed her eyes to open but regretted it the moment they did. She recognized immediately where she was: the dungeons. She was, again, a prisoner in her own home. She touched her fingers to her scalp and they came out wet. Whoever had hit her had done so very hard. Some of the blood was already drying, but the wound was still bleeding.

 

She heard a soft moan to her left and peeked through the bars. There was an old man tied to a post. No! That was no any old man. Though he was barely recognizable with angry red scars across his torso, a disfigured face, a toothless mouth, a bloody mess where his hands should have been and with his feet twisted in an unnatural angle, she could tell who that was.

 

“Theon?” she asked.

“No. It’s Reek. My name is Reek” came the feeble reply.


	7. Fighting on all Sides (Brynden Tully)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters take risks and gambles, and not all of them pan out ... Let's see if the Blackfish's plan is successful ... Will they be able to defeat the Bolton men and save Winterfell?

_Flank the Boltons from the front and back; a surprise attack to catch them unawares and deal with as many as we can. Spread both our sides to surround and trap the Bolton men inside our circle. Finish them off. Go back to Winterfell. Subdue Ramsay and free my niece. Then we’ll go to Torrhen’s Square, Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin. We’ll rid the North of Ironborn all the way to the Stony Shore.. Then we’ll go South and join Robb to win the war against the Lannisters. Piece of cake!_ The Blackfish snorted to himself.

 

Brynden Tully commanded the army that had left Winterfell three days ago. He wished he could have done this as soon as they left Winterfell, but they needed to get enough away for Bolton not to get wind of their plot. His plan was sound. It will surely succeed. It had to! Too many lives depended upon it. But it was not without risks. Their numbers were slightly larger than that of the Bolton men, but not by much. They had the element of surprise on their side, plus they had a better location by having the Boltons sandwiched between both hosts.

 

“I can’t believe this Ramsay Bolton. The gall! To take the North!” said Ser Rickard Cerwin. “The Gods take them! My uncle is fighting with King Robb for them and this is how they repay us!”

“In all likelihood it was the father, Roose. He strikes me as the cunning one.” Brynden told his companion. “He probably had it all planned from the moment he suggested his son _came to the aid_ of Winterfell”

“And to think that I commended him for his courage!” Cerwin lamented.

“You and I both, I regret to say”

“I made friends with some of the men in his army.”

“Don’t think about that” the experienced knight advised him. “Do not think of the _man_ you kill, but of the _enemy_ you defeat”

“But the enemies _are_ men” the young man replied.

 

Before he could muster a reply, a scout interrupted their conversation.

 

“My Lord, we spotted riders up ahead”

“How many?”

“About a hundred. The one leading them seems to be a Crow, all dressed in black. There are other crows among them, but the majority are not.”

“The brothers of the Night Watch, the ones looking for recruits” realized Ser Cerwin.

“I’ll go talk to them” Brynden Tully said. “Halt” he ordered his men and rode ahead to meet with the approaching riders.

 

He spotted them coming down the hill. The one riding in front seemed young and strong. He was clad all in back. _Jon Snow_. He had met the boy a few times in his visits to Winterfell, but he had no opinion on him. Most of what he knew was through Catelyn herself, but her opinion of her husband’s bastard was biased. She had never spoken ill of the boy, but she had never praised him either. She had mentioned that the bastard was fiercely protective of his siblings _–half siblings_ , his niece’s voice rang in his head. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

 

He couldn’t really make much of the other riders. For obvious reasons, the ones dressed in black rode horses and looked strong. The rest were dressed in tatters and many of them looked old and haggard. Most of them had probably been released from the dungeons at the Dreadfort or other castles in the North. _And this crew will manage the Wall!_ he thought. _Beggars and criminals, rapers and thieves. Well, if they are good enough to defend the Realms of Men against creatures from beyond the Wall, they are good enough to fight for me._

“Are you the leader of this band?” Brynden Tully greeted the first rider.

“I am. And who am I speaking to?” he replied.

“Are you a sworn brother of the Night Watch?”

“I am. Who am I speaking to?” the other man repeated.

“Are these the recruits you are taking to the Wall?”

“They are. And for the last time, who am I speaking to?” he said in a calm voice placing his hand on the pommel of his sword.

“No need for that” Brynden answered motioning towards the sword. “I will not unsheathe mine against you or your men” he added raising his own hands as a token. “I presume you are Jon Snow, Lord Stark’s bastard.” When he nodded in confirmation he continued. “My name is Brynden Tully, you probably know my niece. I need your help”

“You are Lady Catelyn’s uncle.”

“I am. Please take a walk with me so we can talk.”

 

They both dismounted and started walking away from the other men. Brynden Tully proceeded to tell Jon about what had been going on both in the North and in the South.

 

“After Lord Eddard’s death, Robb was named King in the North. In an effort to gain more allies, he sent Theon to negotiate with his father, but that backfired. Theon turned against us and attacked the North. He took Winterfell and held you little brothers and your father’s wife hostage for a while. The Ironborn have taken control of most of the North. Upon hearing this, Robb sent some men to retake the North. Following Lord Roose Bolton’s suggestion, we rode to the Dreadfort to gather the men he had there, about five hundred. You might ask how come these five hundred soldiers had not joined the war and were stationed at the Dreadfort. We asked ourselves the same question. The answer was very simple. They did not mean to aid in the deliverance of the North, they meant to take it. Through subterfuge and treachery they plan to take Winterfell, they might have even already done so by now. They also have a plan to assassinate Robb.” He waited for all this information to sink in and then proceeded. “Riding with me are men intent on beating the Bolton men. I have about two hundred men answering to me in the front and about three hundred answering to Lord Tallhart riding at the rear. The Bolton men are riding in the middle. On my signal we are to attack and surround them on all flanks. We are almost evenly matched. I could use your help and your men.”

“You left my brothers and their mother alone with people that mean to hurt them!?” Jon replied after a somber silence.

“Not alone, they have men to guard them. They’ll be alright for now, but we need to hurry back. Are you in?”

“Sorry. I wish I could help, but I’m a sworn brother of the Night Watch. The Watch takes no part in the affairs of the realm” he replied hesitantly.

“I am aware. But your family needs your help. Your younger brothers need your help. Catelyn needs your help. You brother Robb needs your help.”

“I .. I have no brothers but my Brothers of the Night Watch” he replied in what felt like a rehashed speech.

“You don’t even believe that, do you?”

“I am a sworn brother of the Night Watch” he tried more forcefully this time.

“Winterfell needs you. Your Home will be taken. Your family will be history.”

“I … I can’t” he stuttered. “The Watch takes ….”

“No part in the affairs of the realm. I know. And you are very honorable, just as I imagined, being Lord Stark’s son.”

“I am” he replied proudly.

“Yes, you are definitely a Stark. Your father would be proud.”

“Thank you, Ser. I really wish I could help, but I can’t”

“I know you really wish to help. I also know you are not allowed. But if I were to capture you and leave you no choice…” Brynden Tully trailed.

“If you were to capture me, I would be forced to do what you want” he replied fully comprehending what the Blackfish was getting at.

“These men who are travelling with you, where did you take them from?”

“Most of them come from the Dreadfort. They will be more than happy to fight Lord Bolton’s men.”

“Well, Lord Snow, you have just been captured by the infamous Blackfish” he finished with a grin.

 

They rode back to where the new recruits were waiting and addressed them. Because they had not sworn any vows yet, he gave them the choice to fight against Bolton to free the North with the promise that their crimes would be forgiven if they prevailed, a choice the men took willingly.

 

With the added men to their ranks, they continued their march through the North: its woods, its rivers and its hills. It was when they found themselves in a valley that the Blackfish thought their time had come. Surrounded by two hills, the Bolton men would have a hard time trying to make their way out.

“For Winterfell!” he yelled. “Charge!”

 

And charge they did. With the addition of the men of the Night Watch their odds had improved considerably. The element of surprise and the fact that Bolton’s men soon found themselves surrounded made the fight a lot easier. The battle was cruel and bloody. Brynden’s men cut through the Bolton host from the front and Tallhart’s from the back. Soon they started spreading thin surrounding the Bolton men in a circle and coming at them from all directions. By the end of the day very few Bolton men remained standing and they ended up surrendering. Unfortunately the battle had not come cheap. Many good men had died on that field, men they needed if they wanted to see their plans to fruition.

 

As soon as the fighting was finished, he sent a group of five riders to keep Robb abreast of what had happened in the North and to warn him of Bolton’s plot against him at the Twins. They rested for the night and headed back to Winterfell the following day.

 

“We should attack at sunset from the west” Jon suggested. “My father always said that was Winterfell’s weakest point. By the time we’ll come out of the forest we’ll be almost at the Walls and the archers will be blinded by the setting sun. There is a trapdoor rounding the first tower. A passage goes though the outer wall and into the tower. Once inside, we are just a few feet away from the courtyard ”

“Thank you, boy” Brynden Tully praised him.

“I’m not a boy!” he retorted.

“I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect” he apologized and remembered how Robb had reacted in a similar fashion upon being called _Boy_. “Most men are boys to me!” he joked. He liked to joke about his age. He was old in years, but young in spirit, At least that’s how he felt.

 

It was not until another three days that they finally got close enough to see the outer walls of Winterfell at the end of the forest. Following Jon’s suggestion they waited until sunset to launch the attack. Just as Jon had predicted, by the time the men on the ramparts saw them coming they were already almost at the wall, and the archers, blinded by the sun, were no use. They made for the western gate and went round the tower. They found the trapdoor and found themselves inside the courtyard in no time.

 

Dealing with the few soldiers Bolton had kept was easy. It was Ramsay Bolton himself who proved to be more difficult. He came out to the battlements holding Rickon at knife point. He threatened to kill the young Stark boy. _He truly means to kill him_ , Brynden realized. _He knows he has no way out and that his life is forfeit._ But try as he might, there was no way he could get to Ramsay in time before he slit Rickon’s throat. He watched helplessly as Ramsay produced an evil grin and started to move the knife.

 

 _Swoosh!_ An arrow swiftly flew past him and embedded itself right between Ramsay’s eyes. Ramsay Bolton fell to the floor and Maester Luwin quickly rushed out to help a shocked Rickon. _The boy is too young for everything he has seen._

 

“Bastard raped my sister” the shooter said. “He put me in prison for defending her honor. Once he got rid of me, he went after her again. He brought me her head and tossed it in my cell. He deserved no less” he spat.

 

Once Winterfell was secured, Brynden Tully addressed the men in the yard.

“We have achieved the first part of our plan. Winterfell has been freed. Now we need to retake the rest of the North in order to rid ourselves of the Ironborn, a plague that will scourge the rest of the continent if not contained. The North and the Riverlands depend on us beating this threat. Only after we have prevailed will we be able to confidently join King Robb and our companions in Riverrun to fight the Lannisters once again and put an end to this bloody war.”

 

A victory roar rumbled in the yard.

 

He then addressed the recruits of the Night Watch. “I promised that if you fought with me, your crimes would be forgiven. I intend to keep my promise. If you wish, you are welcome to join our fight. It’s either war with us or the Wall. I will put the choice up to you.” Just as he had anticipated, war made for a much more appealing prospect for these men than The Wall.

 

“My part here is done, Ser” Jon Snow told him in a somber voice. “I toured the North and go back to Castle Black empty handed”

“Do not take this as a failure” Brynden replied.

“But it is. I have been _captured_ and I have lost all my new recruits.”

“What if I promise you more men?”

“From Winterfell? But I thought you were all going to fight the Ironborn and then the Lannisters. What men can you possibly spare? More prisoners and beggars? We need good fighting men at the Wall, and they are all busy fighting your wars.”

“I can give you good fighting men” the Blackfish replied with a hint of a smile. “I can give you Ironborn. You help us beat them and you’ll take the lot of them to Castle Black, starting with Theon Greyjoy himself!”

 

They shook hands to seal the new deal.

 


	8. Home Again (Jon)

He had to be honest with himself. It felt good to be back home. After agreeing to fight the Ironborn with Lord Tully he took his time walking around the yard and along the battlements and ramparts. He then followed the Blackfish inside the Keep and enjoyed the warmth he felt. Images flashed in his brain: of his family sitting round the fire, of long chats with Robb, of games he used to play with the younger ones, of songs Sansa used to sing, of serious talks with his father. Oh, how he missed this. He claimed to be a proud member of the Night Watch, but, truth be told, he would give it back in an heartbeat just to be back home.

 

“Jon!” his youngest brother came running.

“Oh, Rickon I missed you!” Jon hugged the little one. “Bran! There you are! He added as he spotted Hodor bringing Bran into the Hall.

“It’s good to have you here Jon” Bran said.

“It feels good to be here, Bran” he smiled back.

“Welcome home, Jon” Maester Luwin patted him softly in the back.

“Thank you, Maester, but, this is no loner my home. I belong at Castle Black now” he sounded too regretful for his own taste.

“Who said you could only have one home?” the old Maester smiled at him.

“Where’s my niece?” he heard the Blackfish ask Maester Luwin.

“Sorry, my Lord, we have not seen her since Bolton took control of the castle, and that was the very same day you left.”

“Did you look for her? Where could he have taken her?”

“I know he took her to the dungeons, my Lord, but we were not allowed to go there.”

“Then, she’s probably still there. Let’s go!” Brynden Tully exclaimed visibly worried for his niece.

“I don’t think so, my Lord. Ramsay took care of the prisoners himself. He would not allow anybody else to get close to the dungeons, which were, at the time, only occupied by a few of our men who stayed behind, Theon and Lady Catelyn. He would order food and water be taken for the men and, occasionally for Theon. No other prisoner was mentioned” he finished shaking his head slightly.

“That doesn’t mean she’s not there!” the Blackfish said.

“When we stopped by Lady Hornwood’s to get men for the Watch, she never came to see us herself.” Jon told them remembering the event and shuddering. “A servant came instead and told us she was feeling ill. It was later on that we heard that Ramsay Bolton had locked her in a tower and left her to starve. I did not believe the reports at the time, but whether this is true or just hearsay I could not say.”

 

Not wasting any more valuable time, Jon and Brynden Tully sprinted in the direction of the dungeons. Once there, they freed the men who had been placed there by Bolton. Going deeper into the cells they found a man tied to a post. He had bloodied hands and was missing some fingers. He kept babbling but Jon could not make out his words. The missing teeth and swollen cheekbones, most likely broken, did not allow him to articulate clearly. He was naked from the waist up and his body was covered in welts. A giant blood stained covered his groin area. Jon felt bad for whoever the man was.

 

It was not until he got very close that he stopped feeling sorry for the man tied to the post.

“Theon?” he asked.

“Reek. My name is Reek” he said in a barely audible whisper.

Jon wanted to punch him, to throttle him, to make him suffer for what he had done. But apparently he had suffered enough already.

“Theon Turncloak” the Blackfish addressed him harshly “have you seen my niece? Where is Catelyn?”

“Reek, My name is Reek” he repeated.

“May the Gods take you, Theon! Have you seen my niece?” Brynden Tully kept questioning Theon.

 

But Jon didn’t think he was in any shape to answer any questions. The long line of cells continued and he decided to continue the search. In the darkness he could hear the Blackfish torment poor Theon for answers he could not give. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he was able to see a bundle in the floor in one of the cells. There was another person!

 

He quickly opened the cell and was taken aback when he reached the prisoner on the floor.

“Lady Catelyn?” he asked softly, but she was not responding. “Lady Catelyn” he repeated a bit louder, but to no avail. He tried to rouse her and shake her softly, but the body would not move. Fearing the worst he put a finger to her throat to check for a pulse. With baited breath he waited until he felt a soft tremble on his fingertips. Gently he picked her up and joined his companions.

“Over here!” he yelled. “I have her!”

 

She weighed next to nothing and looked extremely gaunt and pale. The Blackfish motioned for him to hand her over to him but Jon refused. It would be no good to jostle her more than they absolutely needed to. So Brynden Tully turned to Theon instead and pulled him down. They were both taken upstairs to be tended to.

 

He took Lady Catelyn to her chambers and placed her on her bed. Together with Brynden Tully they awaited for Maester Luwin to examine her, but the old Maester just shooed them out. He claimed he preferred to afford her some privacy while he examined her and that she would not appreciate having the two of them there. Jon had a feeling he only meant him, but the Blackfish seemed to agree with the Maester and left. Maybe he didn’t really want to be there.

 

As they left her chambers they came across Bran and Rickon, who had obviously followed them after they came out of the dungeons.

“Is mother going to be alright?” Bran asked.

It was difficult to speak to both him and Rickon at the same time, with Rickon being shorter and Bran sitting on Hodor’s shoulders. “She will be, don’t worry. Your mother is strong.”

“So was father, and he died” Rickon replied.

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry” Jon tried to reassure them, but to be honest, he wasn’t very certain.

 

Brynden Tully tousled Rickon’s hair and patted Bran softly in the back before resuming his march. Not knowing what else to say to his siblings, but not wanting to leave them alone when they needed comfort, he opted for asking them to join him in his old room. He thanked Hodor and told him to go back to his chores. He wanted to carry Bran himself.

 

He relished the company of his younger brothers. He told them of the Wall, of the things he had seen, the creatures some of the rangers were talking about. The boys told him of everything that had happened after he left, how an assassin had come and almost killed Bran, how their mother had left and returned not long after Bran had woken up, how Theon had attacked, but then they were rescued, only for their rescuers to turn into their new captors. It felt good to share time with them. He truly missed his family. _This is my family_ , he realized with a pang in his heart, _not the men at Castle Black. But if I come back I’ll be a traitor. It would force Robb or Bran to have to behead me. I can’t do that to them._

 

He had dinner with his brothers and then joined Brynden Tully for a drink.

“How is she?” he asked the old knight.

“She’s fine. She’s a survivor” he replied.

“Was she hurt?”

“Apparently not. Maester Luwin said she had not been fed all this time. Bolton never gave her food nor water, so she is severely dehydrated and undernourished. She’ll get better in time. Physically, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“She told me what Bolton did.”

“What did he do to her?” he asked dreading the answer. He may not hold any love for Lady Catelyn but surely he did not wish her ill.

“To her, nothing. To Theon. But he made her watch. He flayed some of his fingers and cut off some toes. He cut off his penis and let him bleed for a while. She said he taunted and tormented Theon physically and mentally. The boy is a mess, I don’t think we’ll ever get him back. But it’s not him I’m really worried about. I couldn’t really care less about him”

“But she’s fine, isn’t she?” Jon was indeed upset about Theon, but now was not the time to show sympathy for the man who had caused all this misfortune. So he asked about Catelyn instead.

“She’s deeply disturbed. She broke down as she was telling me of their ordeal with Bolton. As I said, he never physically hurt her, but that’s not to say she came out unscathed. She will be fine physically in time. It’s her mind that worries me. Too much has happened to her in a short span of time.”

“She’ll recover. I know her” Jon found himself, not for the first time, making hollow promises trying to reassure people of something he was not even sure of.

“Aye” the Blackfish ended the conversation raising his goblet.

“To a speedy recovery for Lady Catelyn” Jon felt the urge to say raising his own goblet.

“To a brighter future and the wars to come” the Blackfish said instead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure this is the way Jon would have felt if he had returned to Winterfell. I'm still mad at Ned and Benjen for sending him there! They knew very well what kind of place it was and what kind of people went there. That he would send his young son/nephew to live with thugs and criminals is beyond comprehension! Ned may have been a very honorable Lord, but when it came to his family, his honor left a lot to be desired (what he did to both Jon and Cat is beyond cruel!) ... And that he is hailed as the epitome of honor by the fandom really bugs me ... Poor Jon just became a problem Ned never knew how to solve. What do you do with a problem you can't solve? You hide it under the rug, or you send him to the Wall ...
> 
> We're almost at the end. One more chapter to go ...


	9. An end ... for now (Catelyn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this is the last chapter. Thank you very much for reading and sticking around. Special thanks to all the people who have left kudos and reviews :)

Being bed-ridden was something Catelyn really despised. She had always seen herself as a Lady of action. _If something needs to be done, I will get it done._ This is a mantra she lived by when she was young as a de facto Lady of Riverrun helping her father run their House after her mother’s death, and as Lady Stark of Winterfell helping her husband run the House. Even with her husband gone, she never faltered in her duty. _Well, that’s not completely true_ , she thought ruefully. There was that time she had been mad with grief standing idly and uselessly by next to Bran’s bed. There was that time when, hard as she tried, she could not save her House from the Ironborn. And there was that time when her House succumbed, yet again, to enemy hands – Ramsay Bolton. The mere thought of his name brought shivers down her spine.

 

_Pain. Hunger, Thirst. Fear. Blood. Pain. Not her pain, but it still hurt._

She remembered waking up in that cell only to find herself face-to-face with Theon. At the time she had wanted for him to die and suffer. Yet, when she saw what had become of the man that had caused her so much grief she felt something akin to pity for him. He had wronged her and her family, but he had had the honor and sense not to hurt them, just as he had promised. He did not deserve what Bolton was doing to him. She closed her eyes and could hear his screams in her head. She opened her eyes and could see Ramsay’s diabolic grin in front of her and could hear his snigger. He would hurt Theon and taunt her at the same time. Ashamed, she recalled how in her hunger and desperation she would look at Theon’s severed fingers with desire. Ramsay would flay one of Theon’s toes and toss the skin in her cell. He would cut off a finger or other body parts and toss them in her cell. She had not eaten in days, she was indeed starving and half mad by then. She was not sure if this was so, or if she was just trying to convince herself. _What I did is not a sin, is it?_ I ate the flesh of a man. _But, I had no choice, did I?_ Surely the Gods will forgive her. _Can I forgive myself?_ She had not told anyone about that part of her imprisonment, and she never would.  

 

She was slowly getting healthier thanks to Maester Luwin dutiful care. She still was not strong enough to be on her feet for longer than absolutely necessary. Oh how she longed for the moment when she could be out of bed, walking around her castle, talking to her people, tending to her chores, in short, doing what she was supposed to do. At least she could use the time of her convalescence to be with her children. The less time she devoted to her duties, the more time she could devote to her family. Unfortunately, for now, her only family consisted of her two young sons.

 

Even if she could not be up and running, that did not mean she would be remiss in her duties. She had Maester Luwin run every decision by her and keep her abreast of every new development. She eagerly awaited news of everything that was going on in the Kingdom. Her uncle and the rest of the men had left days ago to fight the Ironborn still holding several places in the North. Her son was still in Riverrun and she feared the plot against him had succeeded. She had had no news from him in days and that troubled her. Her uncle had sent word to Robb to warn him of the plot, but they had had no confirmation if Robb had received the message and if he had been able to thwart the plot. Not having news of her daughters was like having a dagger slowly and painfully making its way to her heart. How she longed to have all her children with her.

 

Sometimes at night while lying in bed she would imagine all her children and her husband were with her. She would imagine Sansa slowly feeding her that insipid broth Maester Luwin insisted she ate. She would imagine Bran wiping her face and Rickon watching intently from behind. She would imagine Arya making an effort to seem useful getting her blankets and offering to go herself to the kitchens to fetch more food or more water. She would imagine Ned holding her hand and whispering sweet comforting words to her ear. She would imagine Jon …

 

… Jon, he had been the one to get her from the dungeon. In her fevered stated she had thought it was Ned. She had thought she had died and joined her beloved husband, and for a minute she felt peace and joy. Then the pain and discomfort surfaced again and she realized she was still alive and that the arms gently enveloping her were not those of her love, but those of her shame. In an instant she realized that the man she had always feared would take everything away from her was the one delivering her from the hell she was in. She will be forever grateful to Jon, but at the time she had hoped for him to be Ned. She wanted him to be Ned. She needed him to be Ned. But for all his good intentions, Jon took her dreams away from her. So, she made a conscious decision to pretend that he was indeed Ned. She clung to his arms and closed her eyes and imagined, for just a few minutes, that it was Ned who had saved her, who was carrying her in his arms to safety, who was gently helping her to her bed … and she wished he had stayed.

 

 

“News of your Uncle, my Lady” Maester Luwin announced upon entering her chamber one morning. He handed her the parchment and turned around to allow her some privacy.

 

_Dear Cat,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I was glad to read in your correspondence that you were making a speedy recovery. I will not lie, knowing that you had suffered so much and were still on your path to health made my parting more difficult. But it was not my help you needed. My help was needed elsewhere – on the field._

_So it is with great joy that I can tell you we have prevailed. The first part of our mission has been accomplished. We have driven the Ironborn from Torrhen’s Square. Now half of our men will go North to Deepwood Motte and I will lead the other half going South to Moat Cailin. The Manderlays at White Harbour will spare some more men to help us in our endeavour._

_I shall keep you abreast._

_Your dearest,_

_Uncle Brynden._

 

“They have succeeded!” she told Maester Luwin and he smiled knowingly. “But you knew already” she added without any hint of accusation in her tone.

“I apologize, my Lady. I could not afford to give you bad news.”

“I know you mean well, Maester Luwin, but I am not a feeble old Lady. If there are news for me I want to have them, whether good or bad.”

“Of course my Lady”

“Have there been any bad news?” she asked apprehensively. The fact that she still hadn’t heard from any of her children scattered somewhere in the immensity of the continent weighed heavily on her. And Maester Luwin was right in a way; she didn’t think she could take it if she received bad news.

“No, My lady” he answered and she exhaled a sigh she had not realized she had been holding. “I’ll make sure to bring you news as soon as they arrive”

“I truly don’t mind you reading them, Maester Luwin. I need somebody to share my grievances with, and I cannot burden my children with this.”

“Of course, My Lady” he smiled politely before leaving her room.

 

She made her usual rounds around the castle: short treks lest she would exhaust herself, and always in the company of a guard, a maid, or even Hodor as he carried her son on his back. She still was not completely healed, but she felt stronger with each passing day.

 

She had just had supper with her children in her room when Maester Luwin knocked on her door. He had a small idle chat with her and the children and then politely asked the children to leave so he could tend to their mother.

“I don’t think I really need any more tending to” she told him after the children had left.

“No, I don’t think you do, My Lady. But I assumed you wanted to see this” he said and retrieved a letter from one of his pockets.

“It’s from Robb” she said after looking at the scribbled name at the bottom. She had to know, but she was afraid. “Have you read it?”

“I have, my lady” he replied, and the way he smiled at her made her feel it was good news after all.

 

_Dear Mother,_

_I was loathed to hear of what transpired in our House and I am happy that the situation was resolved – yet, not without a cost to you unfortunately. I know you must be worried about me but I didn’t want to burden you with my problems until I was sure you were alright._

_Fret not, mother. We are alive and safe. We received the messenger your Uncle sent us warning us of the duplicity of Lord Bolton and Lord Frey. So we decided to have a duplicity of our own. The wedding went through as planned, but when they turned against us we were ready. We were armed and prepared, and their coup was thwarted before it could even begin. Lords Bolton and Frey have been executed and we have taken control of The Twins._

_Your Uncle has kept me abreast of his progress in the north. If everything goes well, the North will be rid of Ironborn by the end of the month and we shall have a whole army again to face the Lannisters._

_Unfortunately I have yet to receive news of my sisters._

_Take care and stay healthy._

_With love,_

_Your son, Robb._

 

She was in tears by the time she finished the letter. Her mixed emotions were getting the best of her; her son was alive and well, but her daughters were still missing. She wanted to share both the joy and the dread with her old Maester, but she had no words. Yet, he needed no words. He knew exactly what was going on in her head. He just held her hand supportively and let her tears flow.

 

 

One morning she decided to stay in her husband’s solar. She needed to feel she was indeed Lady of the House, and she could not do it from her bed any longer. It had been a quiet morning and she had spent most of it overseeing Theon’s progress. She had appointed a couple of maids and tasked them with restoring his health - _and his sanity_. Not that she cared about him, but he had suffered enough she felt. She would visit him almost every day trying to get answers from him.

 

“Why did you do it, Theon?” she would ask him

“I’m not Theon” he would cry. “I’m not Theon”

“Yes you are. You are Theon Greyjoy, Ward of the Starks in Winterfell, brother in arms to Robb Stark, King in the North, whom you betrayed. Why did you do it?” she would ask again.

“Reek …. Reek” he would repeat weakly.

 

She had tried to make him see sense, but to no avail. So she tried something different this time.

“I received news from Robb. You might be happy to know he is fine. He is alive and doing well.” Something in Theon’s head must have clicked, for he looked up, and for the first time his lips twitched in the shape of a half smile.

“He is alive” he repeated.

“Yes, he is. Are you happy about that?”

“He is my brother”

“Then, why did you betray him?”

“I didn’t mean to” he replied seeming to finally awake from a months-long slumber. “I never wanted to.”

“But then, why?”

“My father. I wanted to impress my father. I thought that’s what he would want. But then I realized I was wrong. My father would never want that. My father died in King’s Landing” he said almost in tears.

“Oh, Theon” she said biting her lips.

“I never meant to hurt anyone. I never wanted to hurt Robb, I never wanted to hurt any of my brothers, I never wanted to hurt you” he finished.

“I know. You could have, but you didn’t”

“But I deserve to be punished” he told her, almost as if he was begging her to punish her.

“Yes, you do. But I think you have already been punished enough” she replied gently. “Still, I cannot set you free Theon.”

“I know. I deserve to hang.”

“No. I will afford you the same choice I would afford any other prisoner. Jon is recruiting men for the Night Watch. At the moment he is taking all the Ironborn that were captured when we retook the North. Would you like to join them?”

“I will atone for my sins by protecting the North and the rest of the realm from the Wall.”

“You will, Theon. I know you will. And I know Jon will help you.” _I know he will …_

 

After her breakthrough with Theon she had gone straight into Ned’s solar. She needed to feel his strength, and it was there that Maester Luwin found her when he came looking for her. He was not surprised to find her in her husband’s office, or if he was he made no comment about it. He held another letter in his hand.

“I know it’s good news, or you wouldn’t have sought me out” she smiled and felt reassured when he nodded.

 

_Dear Cat,_

_The North is finally free! After Moat Cailin we marched all the way to the Stony Shore and dealt with the few remaining Ironborn we met on the way. We joined the rest of our men and we are now marching south to join Robb. I was rejoiced to hear of his victory at the Twins._

_Jon Snow has returned to Castle Black with a large host of new recruits: all of the Ironborn captured in our campaign. He will stop by Winterfell to fetch Theon._

_Your dearest,_

_Uncle Brynden_

“It’s done!” she exclaimed. “Maester Luwin, it’s done. The North is free!”

“Indeed it is, my Lady”

“But it’s not over” she added ruefully. “My son, my daughters …”

“They’ll be back” he finished for her.

“Thank you. I truly hope you are right.”

_…_

 

That afternoon Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell walked along the walls of her castle. They had come very close to losing it all. They had regained Winterfell from both the Ironborn and the Boltons, but a lot still remained to be done. Her oldest son was still fighting a war. Sansa was still in King’s Landing. Arya was still lost. And her husband … well, Ned was never coming back.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end for now. Some may feel that the end is rushed, but it's not. This is how I wanted to end it from the beginning. ...I know, a lot still needs to be resolved. This story was only about Winterfell being taken and how that could be fixed. If I were to continue, this would turn into a very long multi-chapter saga about the war, which is not what I originally wanted to do. I have done other stories that deal with the war and its possible endings: Robb as King in the North, The North becoming independent, the North bending the knee to the Iron Throne (sometimes Joffrey, sometimes Tommen), the North and the South becoming friendly neighbours, Robb dying, Stannis becoming King, etc. In this story, Robb may very well end up winning the war (he has indeed survived the Red Wedding and has become stronger as a result). They may find a way to trade for Sansa and may come across Arya somehow. But I have already written other stories in which this happens, so I didn't want to do it again. This story was only about retaking Winterfell. … I hope that's ok with you ….
> 
> Thanks for reading and sticking around :)


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